


Wildest Dreams

by The_Ghost_King



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Brazil, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Hurt Hinata Shouyou, Hurt Oikawa Tooru, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music, Love, M/M, Making Out, POV Oikawa Tooru, Pining, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Post-Time Skip, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru, Requited Unrequited Love, Sad Oikawa Tooru, Song: Wildest Dreams (Taylor Swift), and they learn that love hurts, they are in love, until it doesn't anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ghost_King/pseuds/The_Ghost_King
Summary: They meet again at the cusp of another challenge.April, for new beginnings, and blooming cherry blossoms, and also for former rivals re-kindling their bond.It's different this time. They're not separated by a net. Not meeting on opposite sides of the court, but instead meeting as equals on neutral grounds removed from both their schools.They're meeting again opposite each other but instead of turning away they reach out and shake hands.orTooru and Shouyou: a few small instances in eight years are enough to hold each other tight some nights, fleetingly in their wildest dreams.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81
Collections: Basically Kagehina





	Wildest Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emochill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emochill/gifts).



> Happy happy birthday to my best and dearest friend [ blxnvx ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blxnvx) in their time zone it's not yet their birthday but in mine it is so I'll give them the first of two birthday gifts a little early.  
> You deserve all the nice things in the world and although this one is a little sad and love hurts I hope you still like it.  
> Happy Birthday!
> 
> For everyone else who isn't the birthday person I also hope you enjoy this fic, I put quite a bit of effort into it lmao. ^_^

They meet again at the cusp of another challenge.

April, for new beginnings, and blooming cherry blossoms, and also for former rivals re-kindling their bond.

It's different this time. They're not separated by a net. Not meeting on opposite sides of the court, but instead meeting as equals on neutral grounds removed from both their schools.

They're meeting again opposite each other but instead of turning away they reach out and shake hands.

* * *

Hinata Shouyou might be two years younger than him but he shakes Tooru's hand like the Little Giant he is. His grip is strong and his eyes are just as intense off the court as they are on it. 

It's a bit disconcerting, to get shivers running down your spine because you looked a guy who's twenty centimetres shorter than you in the eyes. But that's just Chibi-chan's aura. His eyes see right through you, into your core and ask you ‘ _What are you hiding?_ ’ Tooru wonders how Tobio puts up with it. He'd have gone insane a while ago, feeling too exposed under those amber eyes. Tooru likes being able to hide and he knows that when he needs it, really _really_ needs it, his team will let him (he hopes his future teams will do so too).

He's pretty sure Chibi-chan has not once let Tobio hide. The idea of that, of being hounded by such passion, by such _intensity_ , makes his heartbeat rise a little.

They let go of each other's hand and Tooru's arm swings back to his side. He leans back a little, raises his chin and looks down on Chibi-chan along his nose.

Karasuno's number 10 had reached out to him a few weeks before the end of the school year. March had been fast approaching and Tooru was planning, thinking about the future, finding accommodation and taking Spanish courses all so his transition to living in Argentina would be as seamless as possible.

He'd been surprised by the first message Chibi-chan sent him. By the subdued sound of it, the sincerity with which he'd asked to meet up with Tooru before he left for Argentina to talk about something. 

Tooru'd said yes before it'd fully registered with him, compelled by that soft sincerity which contrasted Chibi-chan's over-excitable personality.

Now here they were, on the first day of April, two weeks till the new school year starts, two weeks before Tooru leaves Japan behind. Tooru's waiting for Chibi-chan to open his mouth and explain himself but the young man refuses to meet his eyes. Tooru's intrigued by this change in demeanour. The intensity of their handshake doesn't fit the fidgeting almost 17-year-old that avoids his gaze now.

It's a little endearing, almost reminiscent of Kindaichi whenever he asks Iwa-chan for advice.

Tooru knows he could put Chibi-chan out of his misery and start the conversation but he likes watching the younger boy squirm. He wants to push Chibi-chan's buttons, wants to make him uncomfortable till he's forced to act.

Tooru wants to see what he might do when driven into a corner. Tooru wants to watch him squirm for longer but Chibi-chan seems to collect himself. Raising his head defiantly, those intense eyes staring straight into Tooru's soul again.

He's warm all of a sudden.

Tooru gets why Tobio-chan likes to set for him.

“Grand King-san,” Chibi-chan starts and Tooru wants to roll his eyes at the nickname. He's graduated, starting anew, he’ll rule the court again but hasn't proven himself worthy of this nickname on any stage beyond Miyagi.

“You're going to Argentina to play volleyball, right?” The question surprises Tooru, he didn't think that was common knowledge outside of his team. He would've expected Chibi-chan to ask him for other volleyball advice, about how to best take care of yourself maybe, not this.

“Yes I am,” he responds and a smile makes its way onto Chibi-chan's face.

“Great!” Chibi-chan exclaims, lowering his volume as he continues, “I'm thinking of going to Brazil after my third year and I wanted to ask you about the process. Finding housing and money and language and other things.”

Tooru is taken aback by that information, Chibi-chan going to Brazil? Leaving all he knows behind to go to the other side of the world? It's very ambitious of him, it's gutsy. Tooru can appreciate that.

He's also plunging full steam ahead, leaving all he's known behind. He’ll be remade in Argentina, he's going to rule the court again. He's going to win, no questions asked.

Chibi-chan's question also betrays a lot of forethought. It tells him that Chibi-chan's been thinking ahead, making concrete plans for his future. The guy Tooru played at the beginning of the year wouldn't have been able to do that, but sometimes when your dreams fall apart right in front of you, you're forced to confront yourself.

Everyone had seen Hinata Shouyou fall on the court. Had seen him struggle to get back up, watched him sway and sway and then buckle again. Unable to support his own weight.

Tooru can still remember the haunting “I'm not injured, I'm not injured,” that he'd repeated, filled with frustration and misunderstanding as he sat on the bench. He'd seen the tears in his eyes. His tense posture. His hands, clenched at his side.

He couldn't quite see his face but he could imagine the frustration, the despair, the _anger_ but above all the sadness. The regret, the sweat and tears mixing as you apologize for not taking good enough care of yourself.

It'd reminded Tooru of the first time his knee buckled, of the first time he lost to Ushiwaka, of the first time Tobio-chan was switched in for him and he'd clenched his fists in solidarity.

It was harrowing to watch that moment but Tooru can't imagine how it must have felt to _live_ it. To be Hinata Shouyou, a volleyball monster, ferocious, always trying to improve, and to watch your body fail at Nationals. The stage you've hounded for so long, that has been on your mind, that you've worked towards with your heart and soul. Then your body fails you and you're trapped in your head willing yourself to move, to _act_ but nothing happens.

Tooru can't imagine what it'd be like to reach that ultimate stage and then fall. To be feverish and dizzy and _lose_. Nothing could've hurt more.

Chibi-chan bounced back from it though, and if Tooru didn't know better he might've even said he'd gone back to his old self, from before the fall, but he does know better and Chibi-chan looks different. His aura when talking about volleyball has changed. He no longer thinks himself invincible. He knows that his body might fail him but there's new-found determination, new-found _awareness_ of himself and his surroundings in Chibi-chan's eyes as he asks Tooru the question.

He won't let something like this happen again.

Tooru pretends to contemplate, but his mind's all made up. There's no question about it.

“Ask away, Chibi-chan, I’ll see what I can do.”

Chibi-chan beams at him and Tooru thinks, _I can get used to this_.

* * *

They had decided to meet near Aoba Johsai and since Tooru knows the area well he drags Chibi-chan over to one of his favourite cafes.

They have a wide variety of sweets and really good coffee but the real reason Tooru goes there often is for the milk bread, which he orders today as well. Gesturing for Chibi-chan to get something too, “My treat.”

He hesitates at first but orders a slice of apple pie with a cup of herbal tea. It throws Tooru for a loop again, he hadn’t taken Chibi-chan for a tea drinker or someone who liked apple pie, but for some reason, he wants to know more. Wants to learn more about who Chibi-chan is off the court, all too familiar with the ferocious and hungry beast he is on it.

They wait in silence for their food and drinks to come. Tooru isn't particularly uncomfortable but Chibi-chan is fidgeting a little. Shifting in his chair and biting his lip, Tooru's guessed this right at least, Karasuno's number 10 doesn't like silence.

Sucks for him that Tooru's got a sadistic and insufferable streak a mile wide and likes watching people squirm.

It doesn't take too long for their food to arrive but when it does Chibi-chan lights up. Grateful to have something to do with his hands, something to distract from the silence.

Tooru's decided he's made him uncomfortable enough.

“So, got any concrete questions for me Chibi-chan?” Tooru asks, tearing a piece from his milk bread and plopping it in his mouth.

Chibi-chan takes a deep breath, he's fidgety again. Unsure, with none of the confidence Tooru has come to associate with him.

Interesting.

“Ah, yeah,” Chibi-chan stammers, “mostly about language learning.” He scratches the back of his neck, kneading the muscle and looking up at Tooru sheepishly.

“I haven't really told anyone about my plans yet, they're really just an impulsive idea I had and then Kunimi and Kindaichi mentioned that you were going abroad so I asked them for your number.”

“And they gave it to you?” Tooru asks, incredulous.

“Yep,” Chibi-chan smiles, “they still dislike Yamayama-kun but we've texted a bit since the Shiratorizawa training camp.”

“The one you snuck into without being invited?”

Chibi-chan turns red, facial expression stuck between mortification and shame.

“Ah, well... yeah. That one.”

“Don't get all shy on me now Chibi-chan, I was told you showed up quite bravely,” Tooru teases and Chibi-chan averts his gaze.

“I made an impulsive decision, I'm really lucky it worked out for me.”

“Wow, you must've gotten a massive scolding from your teacher and coach if that's all you have to say about it. Although, you never really struck me as a rule-breaker either Chibi-chan,” Tooru continues to tease. They've deviated from their original conversation topic quite a bit and it's obvious that Chibi-chan is embarrassed by his past actions, unwilling to discuss them since he's been reprimanded. 

The longer they stay on this topic the more his shoulders rise and he's been picking at his pie for the last minute without taking a bite.

Tooru wants to know what button he's got to push to make him relax, to snap that last bit of tension between them so they can talk comfortably.

“I'm normally not much for breaking the rules, but I can't control myself when it's about volleyball, y'know?” There's that sheepishness again, that innocence that Tooru's only properly examining now. Getting a glimpse of it for the first time.

 _More_ , he thinks, _give me more_.

Tooru knows that feeling though when all rationale goes out of the window because it's _volleyball_ and there's nothing more important than volleyball. Not even his health, at first.

“I get it,” Tooru says and Chibi-chan's shoulders relax a little, “although I would've never done what you did,” he continues, making Chibi-chan furrow his eyebrows, “I get it.”

Chibi-chan stares at him for a while, head tilted to the side, that intensity seeping back into him, his presence too big for their small booth. The hairs on the back of Tooru's neck stand up one by one in anticipation.

“You're not as scary off the court as you are on it,” Chibi-chan says, almost without thinking. The moment the words leave his mouth he tries to take them back. Spluttering and hiding his face in his hands as the tips of his ears turn red.

Tooru's a little taken aback by the comment but he doesn't mind it, maybe this is the last button to push to get Chibi-chan to unwind.

“Well,” Tooru replies,” neither are you.” And he puts a bit of an edge in it, adds a smirk and a tilt of the head, all in good jest.

Chibi-chan catches on without a problem.

He looks Tooru straight in the eyes, unblinking, unwavering, for a split second Tooru's entire world is reduced to those amber orbs with specks of gold.

“I guess we're not so different, you and I.”

“Yeah.”

The atmosphere around their little table turns awkward for a moment after these declarations. Tooru wonders if Chibi-chan will try to hide again but he doesn't, it surprises him how much he likes that.

He's been surprised a lot this afternoon, normally he's got other people figured out quicker than this, especially if he's faced them on the court.

There's a first time for everything.

The silence stretches between them for a few seconds too long, each of them lost in their own thoughts. 

Tooru snaps out of it first and unwilling to approach this strange emotional place again he says, “So... you wanted my tips for language learning, right?”

* * *

They stay at the cafe till closing time. Discussing at first Chibi-chan's questions about preparing to go abroad and then, after Chibi-chan had nothing left to ask, Tooru's plans for Argentina. It's fun discussing his plans for the future with someone other than Iwa-chan and the other third years.

Chibi-chan is unapologetically excited for him and although Iwa-chan had been encouraging when he’d first told him, unlike the others there'd been something in his eyes. Something angry that Tooru hadn't understood. They hadn't spoken as much since, too busy with their individual plans, Iwa-chan's to go off to university and Tooru's to continue taking the world of volleyball by storm. It still kind of stings though.

As they're leaving the cafe, Tooru offers to walk Chibi-chan back to their meeting place where he'd left his bike. Chibi-chan assures him he doesn't have to, not wanting to be an inconvenience but Tooru insists.

He's not going to admit it to anyone but himself but he wants to stick around Chibi-chan a little longer.

A fierce, versatile crow who shines as bright as the sun. Tooru's a wilting plant, facing adversity and all he needs is to bask and photosynthesize for a little, till his leaves can stand up on their own again.

Chibi-chan still hasn't relaxed completely, there's the slightest bit of strain left in his face, it's clear through the furrow of his eyebrows. Tooru's still thinking about this even as they say their goodbyes.

“Bye-bye Chibi-chan! Just shoot me a text if you have any more questions, and get home safe,” he says, making his voice brighter and more upbeat, speaking in the tone of voice Iwa-chan always calls ‘jovial but fake’, and smacks him over the head for when he tries it on him.

Chibi-chan's gaze snaps at him, _Shit_ , he's seen right through it.

“I'd like it better if you called me by my name, Grand King-san,” he says, there's a little uptick to the corners of his mouth. His word choice deliberate in its contradiction.

“I’ll use your name if you use mine,” Tooru says and the full-blown smile that appears on Hinata's face leaves him breathless, just for half a second.

“Of course Oikawa-san!” Hinata exclaims, turning his bike around, getting ready to leave.

“Have a nice evening! I'll text you if I have any more questions!”

One second he's calling out, the next he's gone. Faster than Tooru can blink.

As he turns around, ready to make his way home he thinks, _I'm not sure who made who relax there, him or me._

* * *

The following morning Tooru wakes up to a text from Hinata.

> **Chibi-chan~** (5:00): Sorry if this wakes you up Oikawa-san or if this is inconvenient but could we meet up again today? I have more questions.

Tooru's shocked at Hinata's formality, not expecting it from him even though they'd texted before. Seeing Hinata’s text, though, is enough to propel him out of bed, checking his planner to see if he’s got anything important to do today.

He's got brunch with Iwa-chan after which they're gonna get the last pieces of luggage he's missing but that's all.

As he texts back a confirmation, letting Hinata know his availability he also changes the other boy's contact name. They're a little bit better acquainted now, after all.

* * *

When Tooru opens the door for Iwa-chan he has to very subtly catch his breath, hoping it wasn't obvious enough for Iwa-chan to notice, but he doesn't say anything so Tooru lets his shoulders relax.

Iwa-chan, backlit by the sunrise, in all his muscular glory, dressed in a casual sweater and jeans, instead of their high school uniform or sport's clothes. A strong silhouette, broad too, rooted firmly in place like the Ace he'll always be somewhere in Tooru's head.

This sight, even with all the years they've known each other is something Tooru still isn't used to. 

Iwa-chan is equally mesmerizing every single time, no matter what instance. When he's spiking, or receiving, running, studying or just standing. He's unwavering and a little rough and over the years Tooru's gotten addicted to rubbing against those rough edges till it burns and stings. Nothing is more frustrating yet titillating. Nothing hurts more and always has him coming back, without question, over and over again like a dying man looking for water in the desert.

He just can't seem to win, not when it comes to Iwa-chan.

As he lets Iwa-chan into his house, which is practically his too with how much he comes over, he thinks, _I'm glad Iwa-chan's oblivious_.

As they eat together, sat at Tooru's dining table, where Iwa-chan has joined him for countless family dinners, lunches, brunches, breakfasts and parties, Tooru can't keep his eyes off of him.

He continues eating, taking his time to savour the meal, savour this time that will become less and less in the coming weeks until he leaves the country, but he's also taking Iwa-chan in. Letting the sight of him, early in the morning, still a little rumpled from sleep, wash over him. Taking in his spiky brown hair, the sharp lines of his face, his strong jaw and those pink lips, that Tooru's wanted to kiss since he was 11 and didn't really know what kissing was. 

He lets his eyes trail along Iwa-chan's neck, take in the broadness of his shoulders, the bulge of his arms. The way his clothes, even when meant to be drowned in, sit tightly on him.

His Iwa-chan's all muscle, all strength, all tenacity.

Tooru loves him so _so_ much, but he's leaving for Argentina anyway, and if it's up to him he’ll never utter a single word about these feelings. Unwilling to burden his best friend with them, and a little scared of rejection. More scared of ruining the best friendship he's ever had, and will never have again.

Tooru's going off to Argentina. He's going to become strong. Strong enough to lead any team to victory, no matter the circumstances. He might take these feelings for Iwa-chan with him, at first, but there are so many other people out there. With a bit of distance, he might fall out of love.

They finish their food, Iwa-chan yells at him for his dishwashing methods. Tooru's heart beats out of his chest, makes his blood rush through his head, makes him lose it all, want it all. _Want_ Iwa-chan above all else, even more than victory.

In this fleeting instance, right before they leave Tooru's home, where the two of them have spent so much of their time together, time stands still.

It stands still for a moment to let Tooru engrain it into his mind. This happiness, this comforting ease, brushing up against the love of his life, who curses him out with a smile on his lips, in a rough voice that Tooru could listen to till he dies.

It might be years before they see each other again.

All he thinks about in this instance is how to make this moment last.

To keep Hajime close to him for just one more second.

Tooru doesn't mind that his love goes unanswered, unspoken about, unrequited.

This silly devotion of his is not about reciprocation.

It's about love, and only for love will Tooru let go of his greed.

“Hey Shittykawa, hurry up. If we don't go quick we won't be able to get everything on the list,” Iwa-chan says. His voice rough, yet soothing, it's always going to sound like coming home.

“Iwa-chan, don't be a meanie. Just let me put my shoes on.”

* * *

Tooru is still riding his emotional high from his time with Iwa-chan when he arrives at the spot where he and Hinata met up the day before.

Hinata's already there. Leaning against his parked bike, smiling down at his phone so wide it makes his eyes crinkle. Tooru knows that look.

He also knows the look that follows, the fading of his smile as he puts his phone away.

He wonders if he's this obvious too or if he's only noticed because he knows what to look for.

“Hey Hinata!” he calls out, making the other boy stand up straight, a simple smile across his lips. He decides not to dwell on these thoughts, that's not what he's here for right now anyway.

He's here to help a former (and probably future) rival out and that's what he’ll focus on instead.

* * *

Somehow the two of them are still outside when it starts getting dark. They had dinner at a nearby, cheap, ramen place (Tooru's treat) and after all Hinata's questions were answered (mostly about volleyball abroad and the specifics of Oikawa's plans and how he trains in general) they end up going for a walk.

It's early April, and the evenings get chilly. They both burrow their hands in their pockets, pull up the collars of their jackets so it covers their entire necks and walk side by side. Slowly, through a nearby park, staring up at the darkening sky, the moon becoming more visible every second.

Tooru isn't always the biggest fan of silence, there are many times where silence has been the nail to his coffin, has given his thoughts too much space and made him falter. The silence between him and Hinta isn't something he loves but it's not something that makes him incredibly uncomfortable either.

That's unexpected.

They walk a bit longer, following the park's main path, which leads them past a pond. Illuminated by golden beams of sunlight, reflecting the mix of purples, reds and yellows in the sky.

Hinata stops abruptly when he first takes it in and Tooru stops next to him, glancing at his face from the corner of his eye to see why he might have stopped here. To see what kind of face the unpredictable Hinata Shouyou could be making now.

It's the same look as before. The one Tooru recognizes.

He wonders who Hinata's is for, but doesn't ask.

These are the things that hurt, can hurt just as much as falling at Nationals when everyone, including yourself, think you're on top of the world. Hinata might offer this hurt up to him eventually but Tooru does not need to know.

He stares at the sunset, watches the sun disappear slowly but steadily behind the horizon and holds back tears threatening to split. The sun is setting on part of his life too.

Nothing will ever be the same again.

Hinata apologises for making him wait, Tooru dismisses him with a noncommittal hum. He can't say it out loud but he understands. Certain things are grim reminders. That cannot be helped.

They don't walk for much longer, instead making their way towards a wooden bench, rickety and old.

It creaks as they sit down on it, and the wood bends under their combined weight. As they sit both of them let out a sigh, long, almost involuntary and exactly at the same time.

They turn to each other, eyes wide and at the surprised look on the other's face they can't help but laugh.

It's been a while since Tooru's laughed with nothing else on his mind.

He's missed carefree moments like these.

Hinata leans back against the bench, tilting his head up towards the sky. He breathes out low again, and they're not anywhere near close enough for him to ask what he asks next but Tooru will answer anyway.

“Oikawa-san,” Hinata started, a little quiet, a little contemplative, a little hurt even somewhere in the inflexion of his voice, “have you ever felt like regardless of how much you watch someone and they might watch you back, your meanings behind 'watching' will always be different?”

And well, Tooru doesn't know how to respond to that question exactly, doesn't know how to voice the resounding ‘Yes’ echoing through his mind in a way that will make him seem less pathetic, less desperate, less like a try-hard choosing volleyball—his first love—over everyone else and being upset when it takes him away from his favourite person.

He can't think of anything. Caught off guard by this thoughtful Hinata, by this Hinata who can sit next to him, silhouetted by the sunset and simply declare words Tooru would never utter to anyone out loud. He's backlit, his orange hair like fire in the sun's fading rays. Even though he's still so young he holds himself firmly. Posture straight, gaze unblinking, unwavering, undeterred.

Tooru thinks, maybe, that this moment deserves some honesty from his side too.

“Yeah,” he responds, trying to go for nonchalance but instead having his voice break on the word. Betraying his fragility.

Hinata does not say anything about it though, all he does is hum, low, in understanding and then whisper, “Yeah, me too.”

* * *

They sit together on that bench for a long time and when Hinata's called back home Tooru watches him. Stares as Hinata becomes smaller and smaller.

Something flutters in his stomach.

 _Oh_.

* * *

From then onwards Tooru and Hinata text every day, no exceptions. Every morning when Tooru wakes up he’ll have a ‘good morning’ text from Hinata and every night around nine he’ll have one wishing him ‘good night. Sometimes Hinata will include a picture of the sunrise or the moon, and without fail he receives a picture of the sunset every day. Taken from different angles and at different locations yet always equally mesmerizing.

It's a lot of small things but together they make Tooru feel _seen_ in a way he hasn't felt seen in a while.

Iwa-chan doesn't text him every day. Iwa-chan doesn't send him pictures of the sunset, or the sunrise or the moon.

Iwa-chan loves him, for sure, but he doesn't watch Tooru like Tooru watches him. That's just how it's always going to be and Tooru continues to tell himself he's come to terms with that fact but in these moments it still feels like he's lying.

The days fly by with no regards for his conflicting feelings and the glances he shoots at Iwa-chan whenever they meet up become longer and longer the closer he gets to his departure. Until he's straight out _staring_ and has to say he zoned out so Iwa-chan doesn't look at him weird.

It hurts, but Tooru's learned a long time ago that sometimes love is supposed to, and even if it isn't supposed to sometimes it just will. 

Simple as that.

There are moments though, right after Tooru's woken up, where he stares at his phone and sees Hinata's good morning text, and he curses his fickle feelings because in this short time, in these few instances he wonders if maybe love isn't supposed to hurt at all.

* * *

The last time Tooru and Hinata meet up is the evening before his departure. 

They haven't seen each other in nearly two weeks and when Tooru calls out to him, waiting in the same spot as the two times before the air around them turns heavy.

Maybe sometimes these things cannot be helped.

They walk towards the park in comfortable silence. Unlike that first time Hinata's shoulders are relaxed. His hands open, when Tooru steals a glance at his face his eyes are calm, almost terrifyingly so.

There's a fleeting part of Tooru's mind that wonders what would happen if—.

He dismisses it.

Don't dwell on things that may never happen, it isn't going to change anything.

They end up on the same bench again, the wood still bends under their weight, but this time the pond is illuminated by the moonlight. Silver light interspersed with the lights along the park's path.

This time the atmosphere is different, darker, more intimate, something is rising but Tooru would not be able to voice what it is.

“I'm leaving tomorrow," he says, voice low, “early, too early for your good morning texts," there's a smile in his voice as he finishes the sentence.

“That just means I have to wake up earlier,” Hinata says and it's so earnest it kind of hurts. He says it so simply like just anyone would wake up before the sun to text their former rival goodbye.

Maybe, for Hinata Shouyou, this is normal.

Tooru is not as used to kindness.

“I've been in love with Iwaizumi Hajime since I was 11 years old, maybe even before then," Tooru blurts out without thought but once the words have left his mouth he can't stop.

“I can't explain how or why or what caused it, it's just a gradual thing. Till it became as normal as breathing, till even in my own head it became a natural constant. My name is Oikawa Tooru, I love volleyball, I'm going to be the best setter in the world, I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Iwaizumi Hajime my childhood best friend. It's as simple as that.”

Tooru does not give Hinata the time to respond, does not give him the time to voice his thoughts or opinions or maybe provide words of comfort.

“And I've resigned myself to one-sided love,y'know. This might sound dramatic but I don't think I could ever love anyone else, I've loved him for so long and I—” his voice breaks, he takes a deep shivering breath, "I've never told anyone before but I love him, I'm so painfully in love with him, so pathetically in love with him and tomorrow I'm going to leave him behind because that's how these things are, that's how these things work. That is all there is to one-sided love.”

Tooru doesn't know when he started crying but the fat tears are rolling down his cheeks, his eyes hurt as does his chest. _Love hurts_ , he thinks, _Love hurts, love hurts, love hurts, love **hurts**_ , love—

There are fingers brushing against his hand, wringing themselves between his tensed knuckles till they're entwined. The hand holding his squeezes, involuntarily Tooru squeezes back.

Hinata Shouyou lifts his chin, has their eyes lock, wipes the tears from under Tooru's eyes and squeezes his hand again.

Tooru's forgotten how to breathe, how to move, how to _exist_. He is nothing at this moment, and maybe he's everything all at once.

“I—,” Hinata starts, then stops. Blinks slow, breathes in deep and then, “I'm in love with Kozume Kenma,” he says the words like he's never admitted them to himself before, like he's never told himself anything of the sort before and is now terrified to learn it's true.

“He calls me _Shouyou_ like we've known each other our whole lives and every time I look at him all I can think about is how he told me to ‘stay interesting’. I want to hold his attention over and over again. On the court and off it too. I want to know if his hands warm up quickly, want to know what faces he can pull whilst he's playing a videogame. I want to watch him flourish and grow and become someone hopefully with me by his side, maybe,” his voice is wet, he hiccups," maybe from a little ways away, from the outside looking in. As long as he'll have me. And I know these words aren't comforting or anything and I'm really just unloading myself on you here without asking if it's alright but," he takes a deep shaky breath, " _love hurts_ , and yet I feel like it's meant to be. Meant to be him and me. Us.”

Tooru understands that sentiment better than most, understands that rejection better than most.

It's his turn to squeeze Hinata's hand and to slowly wipe away his tears.

They lock eyes, Tooru's hand is still on Hinata's cheek. He remembers their first meeting, remembers wanting to hide from the scrutiny of those blazing eyes.

Right now Tooru has never been happier that he's _seen_. That he's _watched_.

Something flutters in Tooru's stomach, his heart rate picks up.

Tooru isn't sure who leans in first but one moment he's baring his soul, falling apart at the seems and watching Hinata do the same, the next he's kissing Hinata Shouyou on a park bench in front of a pond, under the full moon in April.

They part.

Not a single word is exchanged although they squeeze each other's hands again.

They hold hands all the way to the park's entrance.

When Tooru watches Hinata Shouyou bike away from him this time it feels like goodbye.

Final.

* * *

When Tooru leaves for the airport the following morning, Iwa-chan still half asleep leaning against his shoulder, he's strangely subdued. He's excited to leave, excited for this new start in Argentina. A country he's unfamiliar with where he barely speaks the language and where he’ll be building himself from the ground up again. He's excited to leave but he's also nervous, what if it doesn't work out? What if Oikawa Tooru leaves Japan and will only be known as a Seijou alumnus who never made it to the big leagues even after he left his home behind for it? He's promised Iwa-chan they’ll face off again someday but what if he doesn't make it?

These thoughts run through his head as expected yet they're less prevalent than he thought they’d be. It's almost like he's in a haze, barely present, unable to believe that this is all really happening.

Tooru had woken up like this. Hazy, confused, still tired. He'd automatically checked his phone for any of Hinata's messages and then closed it, reprimanding himself of letting it become a habit. Of letting Hinata Shouyou wishing him ‘Good Morning’ become a habit. It's just past 3 AM, he has no messages, that's how it should be.

Even as he'd tried to ignore it Hinata had made his way into Tooru's thoughts that morning. He was uncoordinated, slow, floating above the world as he got ready and put all his bags in the living room, having breakfast with his mum as they wait on Iwa-chan to arrive, and yet he jumped every time he thought he saw a flash of orange. Yet he'd stirred his _tamago kake gohan_ , light and easy on the stomach, and vividly remembered Hinata sending him a picture of his breakfast, the very same food, and writing three paragraphs about why he loved it so much. Promising Tooru he'd make it for him one day, the way his mum makes it because ‘it's different from how anyone else makes it Oikawa-san, you have to try it!!’. Tooru had chuckled at his enthusiasm, there'd been a fluttering in his stomach at the mention of Hinata cooking for him. _Tamago_ _kake gohan_ is a comfort food first and foremost and the text had forced his thoughts towards a scenario where he and Hinata ate breakfast together on a cold winter morning. Sat together under the _kotatsu_ with each their own steaming bowl of _tamago kake gohan_ , bodies pressed against each other. Breathing in the same air.

After the scenario had entered his mind it hadn't left for the rest of the day. Coming back to him at every opportunity till he'd locked it in a secret vault in his heart where all his greatest fears go.

Apparently, a hazy early morning after a k—.

Apparently, a hazy early morning is enough to make him remember the scenario. It solidifies in his imagination further and further with every bite he takes. The rice and egg sliding down his throat and warming him up from the inside, making him wonder if Hinata's body could make him feel just as warm on a cold winter morning if they were to cuddle. Hinata wrapped in Tooru's arms and—.

He'd stopped the train of thought then, finished his food and piled the dishes into the dishwasher.

Five minutes later Iwa-chan knocked on the door and at the sight of him, any thoughts of Hinata left his mind. Or at least that's what he told himself. They were still there though, clinging desperately to the back of his mind, coming back in his moment of vulnerability when Iwa-chan's asleep and the car ride is long and Tooru is reminded once more that love hurts.

He turns his head slightly to the side, stares down at Iwa-chan seated next to him, his head resting against Tooru's shoulder.

This would have been torture three weeks ago, and it still is, it still hurts. It's still painful to take in all the lines of Iwa-chan's face, soft with sleep. To take in his soft brown hair, feel it tickle his chin when Tooru moves his head just so. To watch his mouth move as he mumbles something in his sleep. Those soft, plump lips that Tooru's wanted to kiss for as long as he can remember. 

It hurts to feel Iwa-chan's weight against him, to think that this is a single instance but that for someone one day—not him, _never_ him—this will be their reality. Pressed up against Iwa-chan every morning and night, the line of his body imprinted in theirs, his weight so comfortable for them they can't imagine it any other way.

It hurts to have this fleeting instance and know it will be over the second they reach the airport. However, it hurts a little less than it would have three weeks ago because with every sting he thinks ‘ _Love hurts_ ’ and it brings him back to last night. To Hinata Shouyou under April's full moon, the softness of his lips, the devastation in his voice. His eyes glimmering with unshed tears. His back as he cycled away. He is reminded of these moments and it's like an anaesthetic, making him numb to the sting of the moment, aware he's being stabbed over and over again, with tiny needles, but unable to feel it, unable to have it hurt as viscerally as it did before.

Tooru doesn’t know what to think of it.

So he tries not to. He's turned off his phone, stuffed it somewhere in his hand luggage so he can't check for Hinata's messages, and just like that he will ignore Hinata Shouyou cropping up in his thoughts.

Tooru is leaving Japan behind in a few hours, the only man who'll keep a piece of heart, without knowing it, will be Iwaizumi Hajime. No one else.

* * *

When the car parks in front of Sendai Airport, Tooru forgets how to breathe.

He's suffocating for a few moments, staring up at the imposing building from the car window, Iwa-chan—who he's _leaving behind_ —leaning against him, no air in his lungs.

The end is in sight and his move to Argentina has never felt more confrontational.

Tooru has known the entire time what his plans were, has known he was going to do this practically since he started high school and yet, and yet. Here, faced with Sendai Airport, mere hours away from a flight to the other side of the world, he is finally fully confronted with his choices.

Some part of him looks back at Iwa-chan's still half sleeping form and wonders if he's making the wrong choice. Every other part of him, the part that's ravenous (like Hinata) tells him ‘ _go, go, go_. _This is your future, this is what you've worked so hard for. You are meant to Rule the Court and you will, again and again, and again.’_

Tooru takes a deep breath and turns to shake Iwa-chan awake. His mum goes to grab his luggage from the trunk. Tooru is frozen, watching Iwa-chan wake up.

Slowly shaking his head, blinking the sleep from his eyes, strong body still slow and uncoordinated. He sees Tooru before he's completely awake and he smiles, he _smiles_.

It's soft and fond and a little sad.

Tooru almost does something he'd regret. Almost.

Another blink later Iwa-chan is fully awake, the smile disappears off his face and is replaced by his telltale scowl. It stings but Tooru's saved the image of that smile in his mind, has filed it away with every other one of Iwa-chan's smiles he's ever been able to capture.

He's but a simple man, a little lonely, and a lot in love. He has no expectations, knowns nothing except _love hurts_.

Iwa-chan is the first to leave the car, Tooru gets out too, slinging his backpack onto his back. The weight of it as final as everything else feels today.

He chose this. The excitement is there, bubbling up underneath the sadness and even as he watches Iwa-chan, ablaze under the sun's early rays, softened by them, he knows he's made the right choice.

* * *

Tooru's got a few moments before the check-in booth for his flight opens. He's got all his luggage on a big cart, put there with Iwa-chan's help. He's still hazy, still a bit unsteady on his feet.

They're seconds away from goodbye.

Five minutes before the line opens. Other travellers are congregating nearby, going through their goodbye rituals. Tooru looks at his mum and his Iwa-chan.

His eyes burn.

He hugs his mother first. She ruffles his hair, tells him to be careful, tells him to eat well, that she'll call every day and if she forgets that he'll have to call instead. She tells him she's so incredibly proud of him, that she knows he's going to be the best in the world, and her voice gets all nasally, the way it does right before she starts to cry.

Tooru has no words of consolation for her. All he can do is nod along, make millions of promises and tell her he loves her, over and over again.

He doesn't know when he’ll next hold her in his arms.

They cling to each other, try to commit the other's body to memory, the other's voice, the other's smell.

His mother pulls away first. Tears running down her cheeks.

She ruffles his hair again, he has to bend down for her to get a hand on top of his head. She doesn't say anything anymore but her eyes speak volumes.

 _I am so so so proud of you. You are going to rule the court again like you always have_.

Tooru turns to Iwa-chan in slow motion. His arms stuck to his side, hands in his pocket. Discomfort clear in his posture.

Tooru doesn't want to cry but he just might, watching Iwa-chan, for the last time in who knows how long, he just might.

They rush into each other's arms at the same time. Iwa-chan hugs him so tight Tooru can't breathe, his entire body tingles. Iwa-chan's head fits perfectly atop his shoulder.

“Don't you fucking dare lose touch Shittykawa, you have a phone, fucking use it. We have a group chat fucking use it,” he tries to sound angry but the stilted way he talks signals to Tooru that he's on the verge of tears.

“I won't be there to tell you to take care of yourself, so you have to do it yourself you massive fucking baby,” A deep breath, “Don't agonize over players better than you, _I believe in you_. _Rule the Court_. I know you will, you always have. I—, I—,” Iwa-chan stutters, unsure where to go from there in his emotional ramble.

Tooru decides to take matters into his own hands here, for just a moment.

“I'm going to miss you,” he says, voice equally hoarse, tears clogging up the back of his throat, “I'm going to miss you, _Hajime_.”

Iwa-chan stills at the use of his given name. His arms slip from around Tooru and Tooru wonders for a second if he's made a terrible mistake. Then he looks Iwa-chan in the eyes, finds them glistening with tears and knows he hasn't.

“I'm going to miss you too... _Tooru ._ ”

The air leaves his lungs.

He's replaying the sound of Iwa-chan saying his name, tender, sweet, soft, hurt, in his mind. How his tongue twisted around the syllables.

It sounded like an ‘I miss you’ all on its own, a different kind.

The check-in opens.

Tooru grabs his luggage cart, he says goodbye to his mum and his Iwa-chan one last time before turning around and entering the slowly forming line.

He does not look back.

_Love hurts._

* * *

Tooru hadn't said a second goodbye to Hinata Shouyou on that day in the airport, all the words that they needed to share between them, all the emotions they needed to tell the other already told the night before.

Tooru hadn't said a second goodbye to Hinata Shouyou on that day in the airport and he's almost glad he didn't because five years later on a trip to Brazil they meet again.

On a beautiful hot beach, Hinata backlit by the sun, broader, tanner, yet still so young.

Tooru can still see hints of that small, feral first year in him. Can see hints of that determined almost 17-year-old, sees so much he doesn't know yet, but wants to know.

He wants to figure Hinata Shouyou out all over again.

* * *

They play beach volleyball together.

Tooru fucking sucks but it's the most fun he's had in _months_. He's giddy when he steps off the court, sand covering his entire body, sticking to his sweaty skin, stuck in his hair and between his clothes.

Hinata looks the same but despite the discomfort, they're both beaming. Grins only widening as they lock eyes.

Tooru takes Hinata out for dinner, they eat at a hole in the wall with amazing food and catch up. Neither of them brings up the night under April's full moon but they both know that the other is thinking about it.

Neither of them minds.

* * *

The days pass like this. In the mornings Tooru practices with his team, plays games and fights on the court, trying his hardest to rule it like he's supposed to.

In the evenings, when they're free, he finds his way to the beach and he plays with Hinata.

Hinata who becomes Shouyou two days in when he slips up and Shouyou tells him he doesn't mind. Flush on his cheeks.

They play together, sync up, figure out the other's ticks and finally, _finally_ , win a match. Jumping into each other's arms as the ball hits the sand on the other side of the net.

After the Buy-Me-Beer Bros have generously treated them Shouyou invites Tooru over to his apartment.

Tooru thinks about brown spikey hair, thinks about the touch of soft lips under a full moon.

Lets himself be dragged along.

He is lead into unfamiliar territory by the sun.

* * *

His first night abroad Tooru hadn't dreamt of tan skin, strong arms and spiky brown hair. Instead, he dreamt of crows, flying higher than the sun. Everything was tinted in soft orange light.

He still remembers that first dream, remembers waking up from it, unsure and worried and disoriented, five years after the fact.

He remembers that dream as a former crow drags him through the alleys of Rio de Janeiro till they reach a small apartment.

“My flatmate Pedro's staying with his parents tonight,” Shouyou says as he unlocks the door. Kicking off his shoes and placing them carefully next to the door. Tooru doesn't know what exactly to do with this information just yet but he files it away for later.

Shouyou drags him into the living room, holding his wrist, touch burning hot, and only letting go to move towards the kitchenette.

“Sit down at the table,” he commands, “I’ll make us a snack.”

Tooru wants to object to having a snack after all the food they already ate, but he stills when he sees Shouyou grab two bowls and fill them with rice.

Watches as he puts them in the microwave and grabs two eggs, a canister of soy sauce and a bottle of mirin. 

He watches as Shouyou grabs the bowls of warm rice out of the microwave, makes a pocket in the rice with chopsticks and carefully cracks an egg into each one. Pouring in a generous amount of soy sauce, a little bit of mirin and a pinch of salt. Sprinkling nori flakes on top before bringing the bowls over to the table, giving Tooru his own pair of chopsticks.

 _“Tamago kake gohan_ , just like how my mum used to make it,” Shouyou says, his grin brighter than the sun and so painfully soft. Tooru can't stop himself from smiling back.

He mixes the food, watches the rice turn a golden brown.

The first bite tastes like _home_ and his entire body relaxes.

“This is _amazing_ ,” he says and Shouyou smiles, cheeky and confident.

“I told you my mum's recipe is the best,” he responds.

 _Yeah_ , Tooru thinks, eating contently, _You did_.

* * *

Shouyou tells him he can stay the night if he wants. Tooru says yes without hesitation, the same way he'd said yes to that first text so long ago.

There's a part of him that thinks this is a bad idea. That wonders if returning to feelings he held that night, five years ago, will put him off his game. Will disturb the carefully held balance where he is in love with Iwaizumi Hajime, who is in California right now, and who will never love him back.

Hanging around Shouyou makes Tooru a little ravenous himself, makes him hungry, leaves him wanting all the things he knows he deserves.

Sometimes being around Shouyou _hurts_ too.

They finish their food and move to Shouyou's couch. Tooru deliberately leaves a gap between them, Shouyou lets him but places his hand on the middle couch pillow in invitation anyway.

They sit in silence for a while on a couch in an apartment in Rio de Janeiro instead of on a park bench in late April in Miyagi. The feelings that surface slowly in Tooru's chest are the same.

“Are you still in love with Iwaizumi-san?” Shouyou asks, quiet, his mind, just like Tooru's drifting off towards a night in April, so long ago.

“Yes,” Tooru says, just above a whisper. There has never been any denying this. There will never be any getting over Iwa-chan. It's Iwa-chan, there might be other people for a short while but there'll always Iwa-chan.

“Are you still in love with Kozume-san?” Tooru asks him and Shouyou sighs. Sinking further into his couch.

“Yes,” he says. Quiet, sad, forlorn. Hinata Shouyou does not believe there is any hope for him either.

The silence overcomes them again, fills the space between them. Tooru moves his hands to his sides, slightly closer to Shouyou's on the couch cushion.

“He's my sponsor right now, y’know?” Shouyou speaks, unexpected and loud in the silent apartment.

“I said something about having a hard time getting any beach partners because I didn't have a sponsor and in the next breath he was offering to sponsor me. He said, ‘I have the money to spare’ and told me, like he always does, to ‘stay interesting’,” Shouyou sighs, it's a little shaky, “And I'd known before then that I was in love with him but in that instance where he told me ‘stay interesting’ and I couldn't see his face but knew exactly what expression he was making. The smirk on his lips, the glint in his eyes, the slight scrunch to his nose. At that moment I gave up on ever getting over him. It's him, it's always going to be him.”

Shouyou spits all the words out like he's never dared to say them before, Tooru beliefs he hasn't.

It's this same set up again, this same honesty that ensnares the both of them when they're alone like this.

Tooru's hand moves a little closer to Shouyou's on the couch.

“Iwa-chan's in California right now. We promised to beat each other someday and I'm so proud of him for working so hard and I'm so glad he's achieving his goals but we don't talk as much as we used to. We don't video call as much as we used to, our time zones are closer but neither of us is free when the other is. I miss him. I never thought I could miss anyone as much as I miss him but I do. And volleyball is amazing, volleyball is great, volleyball is the _best_ but volleyball _and_ Iwa-chan would be even better," he chuckles.

“Sometimes, I dream that I'm back at Seijou and that I'm playing matches with Iwa-chan again. I can send him the ball and know that he'll be there, he's always going to be there. It's strange to have your foundation ripped from underneath you through your own choice but whenever it hurts too much I just think about him. I know he'd be proud of me, I know he _is_. Somehow that hurts even more.”

By the end of Tooru's rant, the two of them are holding hands. Hands clasped tightly together, fingers intertwined. Neither one of them looks at the other, but they're thinking about the full moon and April.

“Shouyou,” Tooru starts, still not looking at him, “what are we doing?”

And that question holds so much more than just those words. It's a reference to both this current moment, their clasped hands, but it's also a reference to the words they're sharing. Similar to those they shared five years ago and somehow nothing's changed. They're just older and in a different part of the world.

Shouyou slides closer to him presses right into Tooru's side, the heat of his body involuntarily makes Tooru lean towards him.

Hinata Shouyou is still the sun and will always be.

Shouyou turns Tooru's head towards him. Softly touches his chin to force his face to the side. His touch is tender, something akin to loving and his eyes _blaze_.

“We're doing whatever we want Oikawa-san,” Shouyou says, “all the things we've wanted to do. In our wildest dreams.”

Tooru is a challenger, hungry, ravenous. Hinata Shouyou is warm, blazing hot like the sun and Tooru can't resist him.

Tonight, he decides, he's going to get burned.

* * *

Just like five years ago Tooru doesn't know who leans in first. 

They are but a hair's width apart, he can see each of Shouyou's bright fiery eyelashes framing those blazing amber eyes. Sees the speckles in them, is up close to see his pupils dilate, knows his are doing the same.

Tooru's hands make their way to Shouyou's cheeks and Shouyou moves his hand from Tooru's chin to the side of his face. Tenderly, slow, _reverent_ and then their lips are pressed together.

Unlike all those years ago this kiss is not soft, or sweet, or short. It's tentative for half a second and then desperate with all the feelings they've had to hide from the loves of their lives.

Closed mouths simultaneously invaded by the other's tongue, the gentle grip on the other's face becoming tighter and then hands moving down to different parts of their bodies.

Tooru's hands find their way under Shouyou's shirt, find the ridges of his spine and trace them upwards to his strong shoulders. Muscular, broader than they were five years ago, maybe just as broad as—.

Shouyou breaks their kiss to toss off his shirt, not giving Tooru any time to admire the view but instead diving right back into their activities. Biting at Tooru's bottom lip and making him gasp. His hands under Tooru's shirt, touching his abdomen, his back, his shoulders and Tooru's touching him too, heated skin against heated skin.

Lovesick frenzy.

"Off, take it _off_ ," Shouyou whispers. Gasps really, and Tooru complies without a second thought. Tossing his shirt off, letting it join Shouyou's on the floor. Shouyou crowds against him, settling into his lap, breaking off their kiss to instead latch onto his neck. 

Sucking a bruise into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, biting and scraping his teeth against Tooru's pulse point and all Tooru can do is let him. Hot skin against hot skin, Tooru's hands pressed firmly against Shouyous back, his nails digging into him, rough, harsh, _desperate_.

Tooru is the control tower on the court but tonight, in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, he'll let Hinata Shouyou lead him through it.

Tooru whines and Shouyou smirks against his neck, whispers something about 'impatience' as he chuckles but the next moment he's kissing Tooru again, licking into his mouth and grinding down against him. Making his thoughts blank, his mind white-out, letting him _forget_ for once in all these years.

Tooru pushes Shouyou onto his back, presses the shorter man's body into the couch and hover's over him. He's not sure exactly what expression he's making but Shouyou's pupils dilate even further, his eyes nearly black, and his mouth twists into something mischievous, something challenging, daring Tooru to take him.

So he does.

He bends right over Hinata Shouyou and ravages him. Kissing him till his lips are swollen, trailing kisses down his jaw. Sucking a bruise against the juncture with his neck, biting him and sucking against the skin till Shouyou gasps.

He smiles, knows this sound means he's won at least a little and trails kisses further down Shouyou's neck, finding the exact same spot where Tooru is sporting a throbbing hickey by Shouyou's mouth and biting against it. Sucking against the tendon till the skin turns red and splotchy and Shouyou's breaths shudder.

Tooru goes down further, caresses his chest, kisses every spot he can get his hands on, _bites_ , and just before he reaches the band of Shouyou's jeans he's pulled back up. Dragged into a searing kiss, hands in his hairs, nails scratching his scalp, pulling him in.

Shouyou's hot skin against his again.

They're moving so much they roll off the couch, hitting the floor with a thump.

It doesn't hurt, they lock eyes and laugh instead.

Shouyou's the first to get up, reaching out a hand for Tooru to hold.

Tooru grabs it without a second thought, letting himself be pulled up slowly.

Shouyou's eyes are on him, hungry and dark, millions of promises of pleasure to come hidden in them. Whoever he ends up with will be one lucky man.

Shouyou pulls on his hand, makes Tooru lose his balance, catches him and locks their lips again, slowly moving them towards the bedrooms.

Tooru breaks the kiss, bites the skin right next to Shouyou’s ear and then nips at his earlobe.

He whispers, "Take me to bed, _Shou-chan_ ,".

Shouyou does.

* * *

Waking up next to Shouyou the following morning has Tooru yearning for a man he can't have, but he forces it out of his thoughts. Instead, shaking Shouyou awake and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

When Shouyou looks at him that morning it's in his eyes that he wishes, deep down, that Tooru would be someone else. Tooru does not blame him for this, he wishes that same thing too.

They make breakfast together, in their boxers, marks the other left on them clearly visible and somehow satisfying to witness.

Tooru's never marked anyone else as _his_ before and even though Shouyou isn't his, isn't anyone's, there's something about seeing all those purpling bruises on his bare chest and neck and jaw and knowing Tooru left them there that makes his heart beat faster.

They both have places to be so they can't make it long but they find a little time, right after breakfast, to indulge in each other again.

* * *

Tooru's teammates know that he finds his way to the beach at the end of every day to play with the short orange-haired boy and then go back to his apartment or sometimes they’ll find their way back to Tooru’s hotel room.

His teammates also know about Iwa-chan.

They care about him too and when they notice him trail after the orange-haired beach volleyball player, when they notice him arrive at morning practice from a different direction than their hotel is, when they notice bright orange hair slipping through the hotel’s halfways as the sun rises, they worry for him. 

They come to him on one of their last nights. Soft and gentle and _worried_. Asking if he misses home this much. If he’s this _hurt_.

Tooru shakes his head at them, smiles sad and painfully self-aware.

“Shouyou-kun and I know what we’re doing,” he says, “no one will get hurt.”

They don’t question him again.

That night he and Shouyou cuddle just a little bit before they fall asleep.

* * *

Tooru's last night in Brazil is spent in Hinata Shouyou's arms.

Unlike before it's not fervent or frenzied. It's slow and sweet, a goodbye.

 _Love hurts_ , it says but both of them already know and they don't mind.

They already know, and when it’s the two of them they don’t mind.

Tooru leaves Shouyou's apartment, early with the morning sun.

They don't exchange any words.

Just kiss quietly illuminated by the morning sunlight.

 _Remember me,_ the press of lips says, _love hurts but you will find yours and please sometimes remember me_.

They will.

* * *

Three years later they meet again.

This time they’re on opposite sides of the court, like that very first time all those years ago.

Tooru stares the sun straight in the eyes and they both know that perhaps love doesn't have to hurt at all.

Hajime might be leading the team Tooru's fighting against today but they’ll come home in each other's arms that night.

Tooru also knows that there's a black-haired former setter somewhere in the audience there for Hinata Shouyou and no one else.

The game will start soon, but Shouyou and Tooru lock eyes and _remember_.

All the touches, and the texts, the sweet taste of the other's mouth, the _hurt_ that they only let the other understand.

They’ll remember each other, some nights in their wildest dreams.

They smile.

It's been eight years since that night in April under the full moon.

It's taken all eight of those years for both of these young challengers to learn that love does not have to hurt _and_ that, with a little courage, it never will.

_._

_._

_._

_-Fin-_

**Author's Note:**

> [_Say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress_  
>  _Staring at the sunset, babe_  
>  _Red lips and rosy cheeks_  
>  _Say you'll see me again_  
>  _Even if it's just in our wildest dreams_  
>  ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFoUP4SX6g8)


End file.
